enthusiastically.
He looked at her as if he already did.
Wordlessly, Chance flung the sheet away from him. Gloriously naked, gloriously handsome, he rose. “You better leave.”
He tugged his jeans over his hips, then zipped them swiftly.
Madison sighed and tore her eyes from his ruggedly imposing form. Damn it. He was back to being the impossible cowpoke again. “We have to go over all this,” she told him. “We need to set a date for the meeting. Arrange for your travel—”
“Not now, Madison,” Chance said gruffly.
Madison was not about to be put off, not after all the hard work she’d done and the month she’d spent chasing him. “Give me a break here, Chance.” Once again, she pulled out the smile she reserved for her most difficult clients. “I know this is a bit awkward.” She was struggling with the fact they’d just made love. “But you should at least give me an opportunity to—”
“Oh, I gave you an opportunity, all right.” Chance spun around. He glared at her as he shoved his arms through his shirt and buckled his belt. “I gave you plenty of opportunity. And, lady, you blew it.”
CHAPTER THREE
U RSULA R ODRIGUEZ , THE marketing director in charge of the AMV corporation’s new Ranchero pickup truck, studied the photos Madison put in front of her with a critical eye. “I thought Chance Cartwright was supposed to be at this meeting today,” Ursula said with a frown. As always, her jet black hair was pulled into a sleek chignon, her makeup flawless, her jewelry stylish but understated. She wore a sleek black Armani pantsuit that complimented her thin, statuesque form.
“He was,” Madison said.
Ursula’s dark eyes flashed in disapproval. “So where is he?”
I don’t have a clue, Madison thought unhappily. Chance had been ducking her phone calls and ignoring her messages since she’d left Wyoming several weeks ago, signed contract in hand. “He called and left a message on my voice mail late last night...something about a problem with a horse he was training. He said he was not going to be here today.” And that was all he’d said.
Ed Connelly—the president and founding partner of Connelly and Associates—sent Madison a narrow glance that spoke volumes about his displeasure with her. “Cartwright understood how important it is for him to make himself accessible to us?” Ed barked.
Madison nodded. “I’ve explained it to him, yes.” Countless times. In person, on his answering machine, via letter, fax, telegram and express mail. Madison knew Chance was a decent guy. Her research had told her that. He honored his business commitments.
And this was business.
“And...” Ursula tapped her pen against the table.
“And he’s not an easy man to handle,” Madison explained.
“You managed to get him to sign on the dotted line,” Ed said.
Yes, but that was all she’d managed to make him do thus far, Madison thought. “I’ll see it doesn’t happen again,” she promised. If she had to go to Wyoming and haul Chance back with her in person.
Ursula stood and closed her Filofax with a decisive snap. “You’ve got until the end of the week to get Cartwright to Dallas. Then we go with another firm. One that doesn’t promise what they can’t deliver.” She spun around on her heel and exited the office in a cloud of Shalimar perfume.
As she watched her boss shut the door to the conference room, Madison felt ill. Ed Connelly turned to Madison, who had remained standing. “Who else have you got lined up to back up Cartwright?” he demanded brusquely.
No one, Madison thought in mounting frustration. Nor did she want anyone else for the commercial. She wet her lips, aware the stress of the meeting had left her feeling just the tiniest bit nauseated. “Men of Chance Cartwright’s caliber aren’t easy to find.” Boy, was that an understatement, she thought, recalling how exquisitely Chance had made love to her. She hadn’t known lovemaking could be like
He looked at her as if he already did.
Wordlessly, Chance flung the sheet away from him. Gloriously naked, gloriously handsome, he rose. “You better leave.”
He tugged his jeans over his hips, then zipped them swiftly.
Madison sighed and tore her eyes from his ruggedly imposing form. Damn it. He was back to being the impossible cowpoke again. “We have to go over all this,” she told him. “We need to set a date for the meeting. Arrange for your travel—”
“Not now, Madison,” Chance said gruffly.
Madison was not about to be put off, not after all the hard work she’d done and the month she’d spent chasing him. “Give me a break here, Chance.” Once again, she pulled out the smile she reserved for her most difficult clients. “I know this is a bit awkward.” She was struggling with the fact they’d just made love. “But you should at least give me an opportunity to—”
“Oh, I gave you an opportunity, all right.” Chance spun around. He glared at her as he shoved his arms through his shirt and buckled his belt. “I gave you plenty of opportunity. And, lady, you blew it.”
CHAPTER THREE
U RSULA R ODRIGUEZ , THE marketing director in charge of the AMV corporation’s new Ranchero pickup truck, studied the photos Madison put in front of her with a critical eye. “I thought Chance Cartwright was supposed to be at this meeting today,” Ursula said with a frown. As always, her jet black hair was pulled into a sleek chignon, her makeup flawless, her jewelry stylish but understated. She wore a sleek black Armani pantsuit that complimented her thin, statuesque form.
“He was,” Madison said.
Ursula’s dark eyes flashed in disapproval. “So where is he?”
I don’t have a clue, Madison thought unhappily. Chance had been ducking her phone calls and ignoring her messages since she’d left Wyoming several weeks ago, signed contract in hand. “He called and left a message on my voice mail late last night...something about a problem with a horse he was training. He said he was not going to be here today.” And that was all he’d said.
Ed Connelly—the president and founding partner of Connelly and Associates—sent Madison a narrow glance that spoke volumes about his displeasure with her. “Cartwright understood how important it is for him to make himself accessible to us?” Ed barked.
Madison nodded. “I’ve explained it to him, yes.” Countless times. In person, on his answering machine, via letter, fax, telegram and express mail. Madison knew Chance was a decent guy. Her research had told her that. He honored his business commitments.
And this was business.
“And...” Ursula tapped her pen against the table.
“And he’s not an easy man to handle,” Madison explained.
“You managed to get him to sign on the dotted line,” Ed said.
Yes, but that was all she’d managed to make him do thus far, Madison thought. “I’ll see it doesn’t happen again,” she promised. If she had to go to Wyoming and haul Chance back with her in person.
Ursula stood and closed her Filofax with a decisive snap. “You’ve got until the end of the week to get Cartwright to Dallas. Then we go with another firm. One that doesn’t promise what they can’t deliver.” She spun around on her heel and exited the office in a cloud of Shalimar perfume.
As she watched her boss shut the door to the conference room, Madison felt ill. Ed Connelly turned to Madison, who had remained standing. “Who else have you got lined up to back up Cartwright?” he demanded brusquely.
No one, Madison thought in mounting frustration. Nor did she want anyone else for the commercial. She wet her lips, aware the stress of the meeting had left her feeling just the tiniest bit nauseated. “Men of Chance Cartwright’s caliber aren’t easy to find.” Boy, was that an understatement, she thought, recalling how exquisitely Chance had made love to her. She hadn’t known lovemaking could be like
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